A Ghost's Story
by wneleh
Summary: Airman Hunter Riley's ghost first appeared to Col. Everett Young the night Everett killed him.


Author's note: Written for littlemimm for Yuletide 2011. Beta-read by shena8 (much thanks!).

A Ghost's Story  
By Helen W.

Airman Hunter Riley's ghost first appeared to Col. Everett Young the night he'd killed him.

Everett had given up trying to get drunk - the booze had turned to acid on its way to his stomach, and he had had nothing on hand to blunt the effect - and was now lying in the dark with his eyes closed. Wishing for tears, wishing he could redo the decision to send the shuttle to that shithole of a planet, wishing there was someone else to blame.

Despite the alcohol, sleep hadn't come, and Everett was wondering how many hours he could stand lying in solitude, when *something* shifted and he knew someone else was now in the room. Ron? Matt? Shit, TJ?

He sat up, slapping the light control on, and there was a cry, as if the brightness hurt. Which was intolerable, and Everett quickly dimmed the room's light.

And there was Hunter Riley, standing at the foot of his bed, looking a bit bewildered.

Well, most of Riley; Everett could kind of see through him if he tried.

"I would have stopped if you'd…" he began, but the sentence petered out before he could figure out how to end it. Struggled against his hand at all? Done anything but beg with his eyes for the pain to stop, for a quicker death?

"Yes, I know, sir," said Riley's ghost.

"Then why are you here?"

"I don't know," said Riley's ghost. "Maybe we're too far from Heaven?"

"There's a nightmare of a thought."

"Gave up trying to make any sort of real sense of the mumbo jumbo aspects of our mission a long time ago. Sir."

Everett laughed, just a little. "You know what, airman? Me too." He paused. "Anyone else you'd like to see, as long as you're here? Eli? Or Brody?"

"No, I think I'll hang out here," said Riley's ghost. "I, uh, don't think I have to follow your orders anymore."

"I'll check the manual," said Everett.

"Good idea, sir," said Riley's ghost.

The ghost moved closer, settling onto the foot of the bed. "You look like hell, Colonel. Why don't you just get some sleep while you can, sir."

So Everett did.

* * *

"He's a bit old for an E4," was Everett's first observation about Hunter Riley.

MSgt. Ronald Greer had just handed him a stack of personnel files, and the airman's had been at the bottom. Stargate Command had sent him three young lieutenants, a Dr. Sims, several dozen enlisted men and women, and, here at the bottom, with "Your gate tech, you're welcome, Jack," scrawled across it in green Sharpie, was the bio of a 29-year-old who should've been no more than 24 or 25.

"He dim? Or a college boy?" he'd asked Ron. Everett would rather have had a dozen men and women like his master sergeant than some 2.1 GPA liberal arts major who'd enlisted when he couldn't buy a job after graduation.

"I don't know his history," said Ron, "But I've met him, and I know his reputation. You aren't going to find better."

"Fair enough," Everett'd said.

* * *

The second time Everett saw Riley's ghost was just past noon, the day after he'd killed him.

Everett had woken later than he'd meant to, but had stayed in his quarters, not wanting to deal with anyone else's grief.

Finally, though, hunger had beaten out dread, and he'd trudged to the mess hall. And there was Riley's ghost, sitting with Ron, Matt and Vanessa, laughing.

When Riley's ghost saw Everett, he rose and joined him; and only then did Everett realize that nobody else could see him. "They're planning my memorial service," said the ghost. "It's kind of funny."

"It doesn't freak you out?"

"I'm already dead," said Riley's ghost. "My steady state is freaked out."

And then he was gone.

* * *

Everett never would have guessed that their first major breakdown of good order would involve Hunter Riley and Eli Wallace. Using their toys to catch a glimpse of Lt. Vanessa James au naturel, of all things.

God and Tamara Johansen knew Everett wasn't a prude. But there were lines you didn't cross, and sexual harassment wasn't just wrong, it was potentially disastrous. The women aboard _Destiny_ had to feel safe; and though the enlisted/officer divide might be a bit porous, it had to mean something.

After Ron had assured him he'd deal appropriately with Riley and Eli, Everett summoned Lt. James, apologized for the incident, and asked whether she thought a formal apology from the perpetrators would increase or decrease her authority.

"If Greer's on them about this, that's good enough," she'd said. "Frankly, sir, I'm more surprised than anything. Not by Eli Wallace, they guy is an emotional twelve-year-old. But I always thought Riley was batting for the other team. If you take my meaning. Sir."

"I do," Everett'd said, "But I didn't ask. I want to be very clear about that."

"And I'm not telling." She'd smiled, looking a little nervous. "Seriously, sir, I don't know anything, and I'm not trying to get him in trouble. Just, I was surprised he was in this with Eli, is all."

"Well," he'd said, "My main take-away for you is, we have zero tolerance for harassment or bigotry of any kind here. I don't tolerate it, and I want to hear immediately if anything else happens. Please, Vanessa, this is important… it's your duty to be my eyes and ears, but it's also the right thing to do."

"Yes, sir," she'd said; and that had been the end of it.

* * *

The third time Everett saw Riley's ghost, he was in the Gate Room, watching as Brody and Dr. Park puzzled out some intricacy of the gate dialing failsafes. Everett was confident it was nothing they couldn't handle; but if Riley had been there it wouldn't have been an issue at all, he assumed.

That awareness made the airman's death, still fresh, hurt again like a stab to the gut.

And then, there was Riley's ghost. Next to him, nodding toward Brody. "Adam shouldn't be wasting himself on gate tech," he said. "Nor Lisa neither. Choose one of us to get trained up. Maybe Tyler."

"It's hardly a waste," he said; but Riley's ghost was gone, and Park and Brody were staring at him.

"It's nothing," Everett said. "Carry on."

* * *

The last thing Everett wanted to do was to risk screwing up his marriage even more. But after Lt. James' comment about Riley he found himself paying more and more attention to the airman; and, damn it, but he liked what he saw.

Lots of men under his command were attractive - it went with the territory. Just look at Ron Greer!

But of course, he never would look at Ron like that; he valued his neck too much (metaphorically; he actually couldn't imagine Ron committing any sort of violence out of bigotry. But he also couldn't see Ron countenancing a pass from an officer, no matter what the circumstances. And Everett didn't want to do anything to risk losing the man's respect).

Hunter Riley, though, didn't present the same kind of danger. And, there was a gentleness, a sense of fairness and decency about him that appealed to Everett. Of a kind that he saw in TJ, and look where that had gotten him! Still, Everett began to make more use of Riley over the next few days as they sorted out life aboard _Destiny_; and, for his part, Riley seemed eager to please, perhaps to atone for that idiotic incident with Lt. James.

Then Matt Scott had fallen into that damn crevice on the ice planet, and to get him out Everett had driven himself past the point of exhaustion. And waiting for Everett with a canteen when they made it back through the Gate had been Hunter Riley.

Everett hadn't even realized what rough shape he was in until his second large gulp of water; he'd barely had the strength to keep the canteen raised even with Riley's help, the muscle control to keep from spilling the whole thing down the front of the space suit he'd had to wear.

"Come on, sir," Riley'd said as soon as Matt was securely under TJ's care. "I kept some gruel warm for you."

He'd followed Riley out of the Gate Room, soon leaning on Riley as they proceeded to Everett's quarters.

"Here, eat this." Riley'd pressed a red gummi bear into Everett's hands; Everett'd had no idea where Riley had produced it from. "Quick hit of sugar'll do you good, as long as you eat something real right away."

Everett had let the candy dissolve in his mouth while Riley did the body of the work required to get him out of the space suit. Then, finally, he was able to sink down onto his bed.

"Can't let you sleep yet, sir," Riley'd said, handing him a full bowl and a spoon; as promised, it was, indeed, warm.

From that night on, Riley'd truly had a special place in Everett's regard. Everett hadn't realized how universal the feeling was, though, until Rush and Telford had engineered the clusterfuck that had landed Riley unconscious in the infirmary.

Everett had stopped by the infirmary to see how Riley, and TJ for that matter, were doing, Brody and Eli were sitting in the hallway, playing cards.

"What's the game?" he'd asked; it didn't look like poker.

"Go Fish," Eli had answered; then, "We really aren't up to anything more intense, while, you know…" and he'd gestured in the direction of where Riley lay.

Brody had simply stared at his cards, and Everett had realized he was close to tears.

"I understand you tried to stop him," Everett'd said. "You're not responsible."

Brody looked up finally, giving him a glare that said, 'You're an idiot,' sir omitted.

And Everett had realized that what he was seeing wasn't guilt, it was friendship.

* * *

The fourth time Everett saw Hunter Riley's ghost was after the airman's several-times-delayed memorial service. The service had been, as these things went, run of the mill; a few people had told anecdotes, and Everett had talked about duty and sacrifice. But without a chaplain, and with Riley known to be irreligious, there wasn't a lot more that would have been appropriate.

But the entire crew had been there, and the feelings shown were genuine.

After enduring the post-service reception, Everett returned to his room, secured the door, and downed shots of Brody's finest as quickly as he could.

An hour (or maybe two) later, as Everett's world warred between clouding and spinning, Riley's ghost appeared in the exact spot of his first visitation. He didn't speak, though Everett wished he would; he simply shook his head, and faded away again.

* * *

They'd had sex only once, though Everett wasn't quite sure it counted, because, as near as he could tell (and he thought he'd remember), nobody had penetrated anybody.

It had happened right after the Lucian Alliance attack, after TJ had lost her baby - *their* baby, he had to remind himself, and what kind of person did that make him, that he kept forgetting? - after Cpl. Rivers had been killed.

Everett hadn't known Rivers well, but on _Destiny_, nobody was a stranger.

He'd gone to the infirmary to buck up his people while they were patched up by a team led by Lisa Park, and found that Riley, who'd been shot early in the fight, was pretty badly shaken up. Everett'd decided to seize the opportunity to repay Riley for his kindness after his return from the ice world, and had volunteered to walk Riley to his quarters and keep an eye on him.

Riley had, of course, protested. "You should stay with TJ, sir."

But TJ had been sleeping off whatever Park had given her, and Everett couldn't see the point.

Ten minutes later, following a series of events Everett had never been able to untangle, he and Hunter Riley were in Riley's quarters, lips locked, hands pulling off whatever clothing was in reach. Then Riley (who, Everett surmised, not only played for the other team, but had been a first-round draft pick) took charge, and a few minutes later they were lying in a sticky heap on Riley's bed.

Ordinarily he'd have left as soon as practical; but he'd announced to the entire infirmary that he'd be in Riley's quarters until the morning shift. So after cleaning up, they'd spent the entire night intertwined, the tragedies of the day held at bay for a few hours.

* * *

The last time Everett saw the ghost of Hunter Riley, he'd just learned that there was order to the universe. Or at least that Nicholas Rush thought there was; or that Rush wanted them to think there was. Which made no sense; but he'd hardly ever been able to predict the direction Rush was going to take.

But he found himself choosing to take Rush at face value for once.

Everett was rounding a corner when he saw Riley's ghost leaning against a bulkhead. "Evening, Colonel," he said.

Everett was happier to see him than he'd have cared to admit. He smiled and said, "Did you hear? Looks like we've made an interesting discovery."

Riley's ghost nodded. "Yeah, I did. Who'd have thought, you know?"

"So - what do you think? This might be a - a path for you - to go wherever it is people in your condition…"

"The life-challenged." The ghost smiled. "But 'dead' is fine too."

Everett waved away the attempt at humor. "Can you do anything with this?"

Riley's ghost shrugged. "I don't know about me, but it might be a path for you. Rush is a piece of work, everyone knows that, but maybe now it'll be worth it to you to do some of that work?"

Everett grimaced. "You think anything about Rush is my fault?"

"I think you can do better than you've done. I think it's worth doing, especially now. And I think you can do it, now that you've forgiven him for my death."

Everett shook his head. Had he really forgiven Rush? How had that happened?

"I'm not going to see you again, am I?" he asked.

"I don't think so," said the ghost.

"Well, then…" he held out his right hand, and Riley's ghost took it; the ghost was solid, kind of; a bit mushy, maybe, and Everett's hand was left tingling. Everett had wondered since their initial meeting whether they'd be able to touch at all, and now regretted not trying earlier.

And then the ghost of Hunter Riley faded away.

* * * THE END * * *

All comments welcome! Really, I've been admonished by people meaner than you.


End file.
